Blood on the Wind
by MurmursInTheDark
Summary: Leaving Windhelm for the last time was harder than she thought, with Alduin looming over her head, and a betrayal fresh on her mind. Where else was she to go for peace? That was, until someone found her. Oneshot: Dovahkiin/Dragonborn x Ulfric Stormcloak (Previous relationship implied)


Ezri stepped in smoothly, the iron of the door cold underneath her gloved fingers. The Temple of Talos was quiet in the early hours of the morning, moonlight and candlelight offering the only warmth. Ezri breathed a small sigh of relief through her mask, there was no one in there, and so she was alone to think. Closing the door softly behind her, she stuck to the shadows of the walls, half-afraid of letting the light touch her. _The mighty Dragonborn, afraid of the light?_ Ezri snorted mentally, the irony of the situation not eluding her thoughts, how was she meant to fight Alduin if she could hardly walk into a deserted Temple? _You're not worthy,_ something hissed in the back of her mind, the black tendrils of fear curling around her mind in an attempt to take over. Tugging down her mask viciously, Ezri forced the thoughts away, refusing to let the self-doubt take over, last time that had happened, nothing had gone well. Dragons tended to prey on those who doubted themselves, their words were harsher than mortals would expect. But those thoughts were for another time.

Her scarred jaw was set in a hard line as she cautiously approached the altar of Talos, still wary of what may happen. If anything would happen. How could she know whether he was real or not? Ezri knew only of the cold embrace of the Night Mother and the beastly spirit of Hircine. She knew that Talos was once a man, ascended to the Divines because of his great deeds, but the disdain that the Thalmor threw around, what was true? The faith that the Nords and those in the Stormcloaks had in the Divine made her curious, they put everything in their belief. But such was the nature of the Nords, they fought, loved, and believed with all their hearts. So, she shook of her doubts, dropping her gaze from the magnificent statue of Talos and towards the grey stone of the floor. Ezri had to force herself to look up at the statue again as she drew closer, the candlelight highlighting the harsh lines of her face as she frowned at the likeness of the Divine before her. She unsheathed the daggers at her hips, holding them in her hands loosely as she stopped in front of the altar. They slipped out of her hands and clattered noisily to the floor, and Ezri followed them as she sunk to the floor, pushing back her cowl and staring at the statue. She thought she'd heard something else, but she'd brushed it off as the echoing of her daggers.  
"What do I do?" She breathed, letting go of her doubts and just believing that maybe there was something there. "How do I know that I'll survive?" Ezri laughed dryly, "Look at me, talking to a statue of a God that I don't even know exists."

She rested before the statue, for Hircine knew how long, leaving her mind blank as she just watched the candles burn, wax dripping down the sides and forming a puddle around the base. Ezri took the glove off her hand, taking off the red braces that moulded to her forearm and the black leather that kept her fingers snug and warm.  
"I know I'm not worthy, I've done bad things." Ezri said softly, "More than most. I probably don't deserve to speak to you, I'm an outcast, probably a heretic too. Still, I can't help but wonder."  
She paused, sighing softly and shaking her head. "Wouldn't you have been an outcast? Tiber Septim couldn't have been born a hero. I've seen enough of just Skyrim to know that. Heroes don't just pop out of nowhere, nor are there invincible. Oh gods, I had a little Lars run up to me and tell me that I was his hero, what do you say to that? I bleed like everyone else, what makes me so special? Apart from the blood running through my veins." She snarled, lashing out and hitting one of the candles off of the altar, and as she did so, she missed the soft creak of the door opening and closing. The hot wax spilt over her hands, and she watched, entranced, as the heat tickled the palm of her hand, she couldn't feel the expected burn that other mortals would feel. Damned Dragons. Ezri shook her head again as she retreated from the statue, as if she had actually been burnt, scooting back to the wall that shrouded her in darkness.

She couldn't let her temper get away from her, Ezri growled in her mind, the Wolf was clawing for release and fought with her every step until she turned. It was to blame for her outburst, she though viciously. She needed to blame anyone, anything, but her. She had done enough of that for a lifetime. Ironic that she was the leader of a group of assassins. She could barely walk past a beggar without giving them food and coin. So, she snarled at the statue of Talos, blaming it for everything that had gone wrong in her life, her unwanted destiny and the constant fighting in her life, she was tired of fighting sometimes, and she was angry at herself for it too. She couldn't just stop and give up, she had too much pride for that, and too many people expected her to kill Alduin. So, she fought. She would fight until her last breath, for in the heated moments during battle, sometimes she would find peace, and it felt _right_. She couldn't explain the exhilarating feeling that came with battle, whether it was the Wolf or the Dragon or just herself, she wasn't sure. They mixed so much at times that it was hard to tell which one was which. This was partially the cause for her doubt.  
"Why?" She said softly, her eyes glancing back up.  
"Who knows the will of the Gods?" A low and rumbling tone broke her reverie, causing her head to snap to the side. How had she missed someone entering the temple? Surely she hadn't been that caught up in her own thoughts.  
"Ulfric." She murmured, staring at the Jarl of Windhelm. He was standing by the entrance, leaning against the back wall with his arms folded. He looked tired, he only wore a simple tunic and his coat, both rumpled, and he had dark lines under his eyes.  
"Ezri." He said, pushing himself off of the wall and walking with long strides towards her. She hastily got to her feet and darted towards him, desperate for comfort, and not that she would admit it for a while yet, comfort from him.

They met by the second bench, Ezri slipped her arms around his waist and he tucked his own around her armoured waist. Silence followed as the two relaxed slowly, enjoying the warmth in their embrace.  
"I thought you had left?" He murmured in her ear, lips brushing its tip softly.  
"Not yet." Ezri whispered back, trying to ignore the shudder that ran down her spine as his warm breath ghosted on her skin.  
"Not without saying goodbye." Ulfric chuckled, his arms tightening around her. He nuzzled his nose into her dark hair, inhaling the smell of snowberries and pine.  
"I hate saying goodbye." Ezri retorted, sneaking her cold hands underneath his shirt, relishing in the warmth that it brought to her mentally.  
"You accuse me of being cliché," A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, before he pulled back and his face became serious again. "Ezri."  
"Please." She said softly, "I can't."  
"I heard." He muttered, he took a shuddering breathe before he spoke again. "If I don't see you again-"  
"You will see me again." Ezri said forcefully, "You will."  
"Sovengarde and back? Ezri," Ulfric spoke, "That sounds like something not even the Dragonborn can do."  
"I can do it. I have to do it." She growled, forcing herself to believe it as well, "There is no other way."  
"There is always another way." There was almost a pleading tone in his voice, but he would never bring himself to beg. He had too much pride for that.  
"Not this time." She dropped her gaze back to the floor,  
"Ezri," Ulfric paused, "Look at me." He commanded, rough fingers tilting her chin up to his face. "Come back to me."  
"I will." She nodded at him, her eyes filled with conviction.  
"Swear it." He rumbled, "Swear it. Please." The last word was so soft that Ezri had nearly missed it.  
"I swear I will return."  
"Make sure of it."  
"Zu'u lokal hi." That was the only confession he would get out of her, for her, it was a promise that she would come back, for him, it was those words that would keep him up at night until she returned to him.  
"Always." He grabbed her hand as she turned away from him, and headed towards her equipment on the floor. Letting out a surprised yelp as he pulled her back towards him, pressing his lips to hers. Ulfric groaned as she kissed him back with nearly as much force. There was nothing soft and gentle about the kiss, it was desperate, unsure, worried. Snaking her arms around his neck, Ezri pulled him down closer to her level, and Ulfric pulled her closer to him. Ezri wished that they could stay in this moment for a long time. Except she was the one who broke the kiss, her breathing came fast and her heart was pounding in her chest. She had a job to do.  
"Return to me." His whispered softly, cupping her cheek with one hand. She was caught up in his stare for a moment. Desperation, heartache, longing. She couldn't recognise the other emotion.  
"I will always return to you."


End file.
